


strings of tension

by M0stlyVoid



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, POV Jensen Ackles, Recreational Drug Use, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:26:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22639210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M0stlyVoid/pseuds/M0stlyVoid
Summary: Jensen hates living alone.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	strings of tension

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a gift exchange on Livejournal in...2012?

So, Jensen had really thought that by now, he wouldn’t still be living with a roommate.

Like, okay, living with Ty when he’d first moved to LA – well, he was only 18 then, that was no different than having a college roommate, right? Even though their apartment was a hell of a lot nicer than your average college dorm. It was a taste of home and familiarity in a strange world of fast cars and faster people, and he didn’t know who to trust outside of his friend. Those first few months, no matter how depressed he was, no matter how much he doubted himself after yet _another_ rejection, Ty was always there with a beer and a challenge to play basketball or Madden or something else to distract him. And after he finally landed the spot on _Days_, having someone to come home and bitch about his coworkers to was, well, it was nice. As domestic and cheesy as it made them, Jensen loved his apartment and the security that came with living with his best friend.

So, when Ty went back to Texas, Jensen didn’t even think of trying to replace him at first. He moved a treadmill and TV into Ty’s old bedroom and roamed his living room naked (with the curtains tightly shut, of course) with glee for the first few weeks.

But…but. The quiet that Jensen had relished turned oppressive, weighed on him, leached into his brain and made the weirdest thoughts sneak in. The solitude grew stifling, until Jensen wanted to scream at nights to hear a human voice, kept his TV on despite the crap it was spewing to mimic interaction. He thought about a dog, but his hours on _Days_ made that just a pipe dream – it wouldn’t be fair to leave a puppy alone for so many hours.

In short, Jensen was lonely, and no matter how many parties he threw or hookups he stumbled home with, everyone who crossed his threshold felt impermanent. The accumulated laughs and sighs and moans and spilled food and shattered drinks faded faster and faster until Jensen was left alone again.

And when thoughts like all _that_ started to cross his mind, he’d roll his eyes at his own melodrama and call Chris or Todd or someone and cajole them into hitting the bars.

It was the day that Jensen woke up with not one, but _two_ strangers in his bed, a man and a woman, that he finally accepted that maybe his living-alone coping mechanisms weren’t the healthiest. He asked around the _Days_ set and within two weeks was showing a new person around the apartment and handing over a fresh copy of the keys. He’d had a handful of roommates ever since, whether they were friends or relationships, but there was always _someone_.

When he first went up to Vancouver for _Dark Angel_, he didn’t look for a place – he stayed in the production-funded hotel for the ten days he was there. But then they asked him up for a recurring spot, another iteration of his character, and his friend James let him crash while he was looking for a new place.

That ended up being a little more permanent than intended, and he stayed with James all through _Dark Angel_’s run. He fled back to LA after the show imploded, eager to escape the tension on-set to the relative sanity of the Hollywood circuit – and wasn’t _that_ a sad comparison. Auditions took him back to Vancouver for _Smallville_, and he stayed with Rosey for a while, then the hotel again until the quiet slipped in, and then he went back to James’.

Point is, Jensen hadn’t ever lived on his own for any remarkable stretch of time, but he’s sure that part of why he’s doing it _now_ is because of the uncertainty of his job – who wants to sign a lease or, God forbid, a mortgage, only to be stuck making payments when the job abruptly ends? No thanks.

Really, though, Jensen _had_ thought he’d be on his own by now. He was thirty years old for fuck’s sake. His little show that could was about to start its fourth season, and if their fans had anything to do with it, _Supernatural_ would be on the air for _many_ years to come.

So why was he pacing his trailer running his hands repeatedly through his (Dean’s) over-gelled hair, staring at his phone like it had delivered him some deep betrayal?

This wasn’t _totally_ unexpected, obviously. James had been looking for a new role for months now, and Jensen couldn’t be happier for him, really.

It’s just. James was selling his apartment, already had buyers actually, and Jensen was out of a place to stay.

He felt panic welling up in him, but firmly tamped it down – again, he was _thirty_, not some scared boy moving to a city for the first time. He could live on his own – look for an apartment, sign a lease, settle a little.

Jensen had just talked himself down from his panic attack when Jared fucking Padalecki barged into his trailer and shook his dripping hair all over.

“Jen, it is _sheeting_ out,” Jared stated dramatically, collapsing onto Jensen’s house. “Clif is getting the car ready – I told him to pull up here to take us home. They shut everything down for the day.”

Jensen eyed Jared’s shoes dubiously – his mile-long legs were jittering and Jared looked seconds away from swinging his feet onto Jensen’s nice, _clean_ couch. “Don’t even think about it, Padalecki. Your shoes are fucking _coated_ with mud – what were you doing out there?”

Jared ducked his head and peeked up at Jensen, all glinting eyes and quickflash smile. “Playin’. Wanna come over tonight and get shitfaced? We’ve got a late start tomorrow, too – they have to clean up everything an’ set up.”

“ ‘Playin’?” Jensen repeated, squashing a silly grin in favor of an arched eyebrow. “What are you, thirteen?”

That got Jared laughing outright. “Fifteen, and ain’t I a big boy? C’mon, Smeckles, come over and drink too much tequila and sing karaoke with me. We can go on ChatRoulette and yell at people again!”

Jensen did smile at that. “You got it, Jaybird.” A honk sounded from outside. “Let’s go. If we call now, the pizza will get to yours the same time we do.”

So of course, Jensen ended up whining to Jared about his housing woes. Sprawled out next to Jared on his living room floor, rolling an empty bottle under his left palm, Jensen heaved a great sigh after wrapping up his tale and turned his head to the right, struggling to integrate the two Jareds lying squashed between Jensen and the couch.

Jared was quiet for so long, Jensen wondered if he’d falling asleep, but finally he spoke. “Jen. Living alone’s a bitch. I don’ like it either. An’ I got this whooooole fuckin’ _house_ –“ he tried to fling his arms wide and ended up smacking Jensen in the collarbone, “–an’ _no_body to live in it with. Sandy – well.” Jared sobered for a second, but then rolled over to his side and smiled brightly into Jensen’s squinting gaze. “_Jen_sen. Come live with me. ‘S perfect!”

Jensen wrinkled his nose – Jared was really close, and his breath was a potent combination of whisky and tequila that made Jensen feel even drunk. “Dunno, Jay. Not sure I should have a roommate still. Like. I’m gettin’ _old_, man. An’ I’ve got _so_ much money–”

Jared convulsed into laughter at that. “Yup, Moneybags Ackles over here!”

Jensen ignored him. “I have _lotsa_ cash, Jared. And. I think I should try livin’ on my own.”

Jared blinked at him. “Maybe you _should_, Jense. But. Do you _want_ to live alone?”

Jensen rolled onto his side to fully face Jared. He blinked until his friend was in focus and thought about the question. “…no. No, I don’t think I do. I like having’ a roommate.”

Jared grinned dopily at him and scooched forward until their noses bumped together. “Okay _good_! Jensen, we will have _so_ much fun. It’s gonna be so great. We can have parties and go on runs and you can use your magical, _angelic_ voice to sing me to sleep every night…” Jared’s voice took on a sing-song quality and Jensen laughed in his face.

That got Jared laughing, too, and they laid there giggling in each other’s faces until they fell asleep, hands close and knees touching. Typical Tuesday. 

So, Jensen moved in with Jared. He pulled all his shit out of storage, claimed ownership of the downstairs bedroom, and listened to the echo of their fanbase exploding from excitement. His brother called, laughed in his ear and hung up, and Chris mailed him “Congratulations on your wedding” cards every day for two weeks straight. Jared got the same treatment from his friends, too, and the two of them dealt with the cards and the mocking and the _fucking_ engraved espresso machine Chad sent (Jensen treasured the damn thing anyway, even though the top had ‘Padackles’ etched in some schmaltzy font surrounded by a heart with doves on either side).

The best part, Jensen thought, was cutting down on commute time. With both of them leaving from the same place, Clif came to get them a full 30 minutes later, and Jensen loved the extra sleep time that afforded him. He also loved having breakfast with Jared, taking turns reading the headlines in the most dramatic, booming voices they could manage. He even didn’t hate when Jared dragged him out of bed early to go for a run or something equally healthy and tedious.

Yeah. The best part was the commute time.

So their little show about two brothers on a road trip was getting renewed for two more seasons, six and seven, and Jared decided this called for a bit party. He invited the entire cast and crew and Tom and Mikey and Justin and the guys from _Psych_, even though Jensen thought Jared only invited them because he was embarrassingly fannish about the show and wanted to gush to them in person. When he called Jared on it, thought, he only smirked at Jensen and went back to haphazardly taping the paper cut-outs of guns and salt shakers he’d printed to the walls. “The perks of celebrity, Jensen. It’s not _gushing_ \- it’s appreciating the craft of a fellow artist.”

Jensen snorted, leaning against the staircase and idly watching Jared’s ass move as he got up on tiptoes to tape a picture of an Impala high on the wall. “Jay, this is seriously hideous. And, I _bet_ you’d like to appreciate James Roday’s ‘art’.”

Jared tossed him an affronted frown. “It’s _themed_, Jen. It’s classy! And I’m pretty sure _you’re_ the one who’d be interested in Roday’s talents.”

Jensen shifted uncomfortably. Okay, so maybe Jared found out that sometimes he hooked up with guys. That had been an accident, although pretty unavoidable, considering they _lived_ together and all. Jensen had kinda hoped Jared wouldn’t find out, wouldn’t make him explain or get weirded out, but after Jared had walked in on Jensen in a somewhat – _compromising_ position one morning, things had been surprisingly normal. Jared hadn’t been weird, had accepted it with minimal awkwardness, and had even dropped a few stories of his own same-sex hookups.

Jensen had been relieved, of course. He’d been afraid that Jared would think Jensen wanted to jump him or something.

And, sure, maybe Jensen had been noticing the length of Jared’s legs and the breadth of his smile a bit more than was strictly necessary recently. That was between him and his own brain, though, and nobody’s business besides – these glimmers of attraction would fade eventually.

A smack to his shoulder got Jensen starting up, staring into Jensen’s quizzical face. “Jen. You drifted off. C’mon, people are gonna be here in like an hour and we need to set up the bar and heat the pizza rolls!”

Jensen groaned, shaking it off and pushing away from the wall. “Pizza rolls? Really? I thought you wanted this to be _classy_. How are we even gonna have enough for everyone? You can eat practically an entire bag yourself – and that’s _sober_.”

Jared just laughed at him. Jensen sighed. Everything he did amused his co-star, it seemed.

Fast-forward three hours, and Jensen was laughing too, so hard he was shaking from lack of oxygen and tears streaming so hard his entire face hurt. _What_ he was giggling at, he didn’t know, but Jared was next to him on the couch, slumped over and legs akimbo, right hand tapping a lazy rhythm against Jensen’s shoulder. They calmed down just enough to breathe until Jensen cast a glance sideways at Jared, and that set them both off again, laughing in each other’s faces.

A hand waved in front of Jensen’s face. He blinked it into focus and opened his mouth just in time to catch the end of the joint as it was guided towards him. He sucked in a deep toke and tipped his head back, blowing smoke into Tom’s grinning face.

“Whaddaya want, Welling?” he enunciated carefully.

“Jenny, Rosey ‘n I are taking off. He’s blitzed. Imma leave the rest of the bag with you – you boys behave now, y’hear?”

Jensen blinked slowly and let the words sink in. “Oh-kay. Bye Tommy. Thanks f’r comin’. Y’all have fun bein’ Superman.”

“SuperTom!” Jared interjected, stuffing a handful of pizza rolls into his mouth.

Tom smiled at them and disappeared. Or, well – he probably just walked out the door, but Jensen wasn’t in the right state of mind to contemplate whether his friend’s existence was contingent on his awareness of and participation in it.

He heard the _snick_ of the lighter and rolled his head over in time to see Jared pulling another joint out of the bag and lighting it up. “Man, we have had so _much_, shouldn’t we let it – maybe – we should…”

“Nah,” Jared said, voice choked as he exhaled. “Not too much. ‘S fine. We can – we _live_ here. We can order Chinese!”

Jensen smiled – or, he thought he was smiling – and stared at Jared’s mouth as he brought the cig up to his lips again. “Yeah. Pretty.”

Jared turned towards him at that, eyebrow arched. “Chinese food is pretty?”

“Nah, no, it’s – it’s your mouth. Your lips are pink.” Jesus, was Jensen _talking_? Well, this was embarrassing.

Jared – Jared was leaning closer, eyes dark and intent. “C’mon, Jen, I wanna try something. Open your mouth a little.” He took another drag.

Jensen started to ask why, but the minute his lips parted, Jared’s mouth covered his, pushing smoke into his mouth.

Jensen blinked. He felt lazy, slow, and was this _happening_? Jared was up in his personal space, a leg slung across Jensen’s shins, the hand not holding the joint cupping Jensen’s jaw, keeping him in place.

They stayed like that, breathing each other’s air, passing the smoke until it was gone. And then Jensen moved back, got up, and weaved towards his room.

Jensen didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been this. He almost fell out of bed when Jared pounded on his door, stumbled in and out of the shower, and shuffled into the kitchen straight to the coffee maker. He sat there and drank caffeine until he felt human, which was pretty much right when Jared barged back in from his run and dashed upstairs to his bathroom. They then spent the rest of the day hanging out, cleaning up the house and flicking between channels until they felt up to heading out to dinner with some of the crew.

The weeks stretched on and Jensen was on the lookout for some blip, some sidelong look or other indication that this had thrown up some block in their friendship. However, everything was – normal. Jared was painfully, unrelentingly exactly the same as he always had been, with not even a mention of that night.

Jensen followed his example. He went along with the pranks and the laughs and the _Star Wars_ marathons with as much jollity he could stand. And life continued on, despite Jensen’s misgivings.

It was almost unbelievable, really. How could they go from – well, from _almost_ kissing, does shotgunning really count? – to just being themselves? Normal? Bad enough when Jensen had only idle daydreams that didn’t really mean anything significant about his co-star, he now had a 3D color image of what Jared’s lips felt like on his, how their bodies felt pressed together.

Of-fucking-course it would take a kiss that clearly meant nothing to ignite that tiny crush into full-blown feelings. Jensen had all the luck, really.

Their routine went on until their wrap party for season five. Sam and Dean were hurtling apart and together and beating the hell out of each other in the process, and Jared and Jensen had to prop each other up and pull each other out of character bleed-induced funks week after week. Finally, though, it was over, and they hauled their exhausted asses to the steakhouse, then the bar where they joined the cast and crew for a night that would hopefully make up for the way this past season had worked them all over.

Jensen was well on his way to chasing oblivion, tossing back shots and dispensing rounds whenever people looked like they were running low. He propped himself against the bar with his elbows and surveyed the room, lifting his beer to his lips.

The crowd was mostly connected with _Supernatural_, though as the hours bled on more and more locals entered the mix, and Jensen was feeling itchy, restless. Jared had been particularly clingy today, needing more contact than normal to shake Sam Winchester’s problems, and while Jensen absolutely did not blame him – acting against yourself was some of the hardest work for _any_one – prolonged touches with the guy he kind of sort of maybe definitely wanted wasn’t exactly conducive for his own mental sanity.

So. Tonight, he was looking at everyone with a bit more intention than normal, keeping an eye out for someone who struck his fancy.

He noted Jared across the room, holed up at a booth with what had to be half the female occupants of the bar, laughing and downing a shot. Jensen lifted an eyebrow but forced himself to move his gaze on and not dwell – Jared was flirting, Jensen knew the signs, and chances are he’d have to turn his music up or be forced to listen to Jared make one of those girls scream.

He listened more often than he’d care to admit, forcing his fingers into his mouth to stifle his moans while his other hand moved up and down his cock. He somehow managed to time his climax with Jared’s. And wasn’t it sad that he knew what Jared sounded like when he came? Jensen himself was never loud when he brought people home, or at least he tried not to be, but Jared didn’t seem to have the same courtesy with his partners.

Jensen wrenched his thoughts off that track and turned his head, catching the eye of a stacked redhead down the bar from him who looked intent on her glass of whisky. He watched as she took a pull of the liquor, thought about what those lips might feel like on him, and moved down to the stool next to her. “I’ll have two of what she’s having,” a smile twinkled her direction, and a wink, and he was off to the races.

Things were going well until he felt an itch on the back of his neck. Turning mid-sentence, he caught Jared’s eyes across the room, and the look in them sent a flash of déjà vu over him. It reminded him of – well, of that night that apparently didn’t exist, the night Jared had leaned over and put his mouth on Jensen like it had meant something.

Jensen shook it off and turned back to – Catherine, come on, her name was Catherine, it wasn’t that tough. He picked up the rhythm of their conversation again and threw a little more effort into his flirting, motioning for another round to be brought over. She laughed at something he said and put her hand on his arm, just as he felt a heavy weight drape across his back. He started, sloshing some whisky over the rim of his glass, and glanced backwards to see who Catherine was staring at, although by the smell and the feel he already knew who.

Jared met his sideways glance with a slurry, stupid grin. “Hey Jen. Whatcha doin’, who ya talkin’ to, wanna go play darts?”

Jensen sighed and cast an apologetic glance at Catherine, who had suddenly removed her hand. “Sorry, darling. Looks like my friend here’s had a few too many. Give me a minute?”

He felt Jared’s grip on his hip tighten suddenly, and Catherine turned red. “No – no. It’s okay. I’ll, um…it was nice talking to you, Jensen. Thanks for the drinks!” She hopped off the bench and walked briskly off. Jensen followed her progress, mouth dropping open in confusion, then turned in his chair and shoved Jared back a bit so they weren’t chest-to-chest.

“What the fuck, Jared? I was busy!”

Jared’s eyes had sharpened while he wasn’t looking, and Jensen took an involuntary step back. “Yeah, saw that, Jensen. You know what? This party’s getting kind of bland, and since you seem to have lost your _company_,” damn, you could freeze a drink with that tone, “why don’t we head home?”

Jensen blinked. “Um. Sure…? Let’s head out and call a cab.”

Jared nodded sharply and turned heel, striding towards the exit. Jensen stood dumbfounded for a minute, then trailed after him. The fuck? What had gotten _in_to Jared tonight? Why was he looking at him like–

Like nothing. As usual. He was probably just tired, or maybe he’d struck out, and he wanted a pity party with Jensen at home instead of dealing with the crowds at the bar.

The cab ride was silent. Jensen tapped his fingers on the window until Jared cut him an annoyed glare, so then he just stared out the window until they pulled up to their house, the neighborhood sleepy and quiet (well, obviously, since it was a Wednesday). Jensen leaned forward to pay while Jared marched up to the front door and unlocked it, walking inside and leaving the door half-open.

Jensen hurried after him and stepped over the threshold, shrugging his jacket off and shutting the door with a quiet _click_. “Jared?” he called, toeing his shoes off and moving into the foyer. “Hey, where’d you go? Wanna watch TV or –”

His words cut off as he was pushed – not gently – into the wall by the door. He felt Jared breathe harshly into his ear, the bones in his shoulders grinding into the wall. “Jesus fuck, Jay.”

“God damn it Jensen, I tried to do this slow, not freak you out, but I can’t fucking _deal_ with you any more,” Jared growled into his ear, hands drifting down behind Jensen’s body to his ass. “I’ve been – Christ, Jensen, I _kissed_ you and you didn’t even – you just walked _away_. So I let you fucking – god, I just let you go and hoped that maybe you’d _get it_. But you didn’t, and I tried, and I told myself…” Jared stopped talking for a second and pressed his body further into Jensen’s, molding their frames together. “But then you were hitting on that fucking girl tonight and I just. Fucking. Couldn’t.” He ended the sentence on a hiss and dipped his head down to Jensen’s neck, biting down to the jointure of his clavicle and sucking until Jensen groaned.

“Jay – Jesus, Jesus _Christ_ hang on a second, what the fuck – where is this – oh my god,” he moaned as Jared licked a line up to his hairline and hummed into Jensen’s ear. “Ah, shit. Jared. Hang on, since when do you…”

“Since fucking _always_, Jensen, shut the fuck up,” Jared growled, tugging at Jensen’s zipper and forcing his jeans down.

Jensen wiggled to help and brought his hands up, pushing Jared’s t-shirt over his head, running his fingers down the cut lines of his pecs and abs, down to where his hipbones slanted in. Jared’s jeans were hanging dangerously low, and when Jensen scored his nails down his sides towards the top hem, Jared shivered and dove for Jensen’s mouth, biting at his lips.

They kissed until their lips were numb and swollen, until they were sweating, and Jensen finally fumbled with Jared’s belt and zipper until he was able to push his jeans down to his feet. Jared kicked them off, allowing Jensen barely enough time to pull his shirt up over his head before crowding him against the wall again. They groaned as their cocks touched, Jensen scrabbling for a grip on Jared’s broad shoulders and biting hard at the curve of his neck, sucking until he was sure to have left a mark. Jared’s hands were fluttering at Jensen’s sides before finally settling low on his hips, and then – oh shit, then he began to thrust unevenly, breath ragged in Jensen’s ear.

Jensen shifted slightly to fix the angle and groaned as their cocks slid against each other with that perfect level of friction. Jared was whining low in his throat, and when Jensen wormed a hand in between their bodies and took their dicks in hand, he groaned aloud. “_Shit_, Jense. Holy _fucking_ shit that feels good.”

“Yeah, Christ, Jared,” Jensen panted, jerking their cocks as best he could with the awkward pressure of Jared’s body restricting his movements. Sweat dripped down from their bodies, and that combined with their precome slicked the way.

Jensen could feel the heat coiling low in his spine and opened his mouth onto Jared’s neck. “Ah, Jared. I’m. Oh, Jared.”

“Yeah, c’mon, Jensen, fuck, I’m gonna – Jesus, _shit_!” Jared groaned, spasmodically clutching his hands over Jensen’s hips tight, tighter, until they were bound to leave a mark, hips stuttering forward and up as he came.

Jensen pulled his head back in time to see Jared’s own thrown back, mouth open as he sucked in deep lungfuls of air, eyes screwed shut. A bead of sweat was running down his neck, and Jensen jerked their cocks harder as he traced it with his eyes.

Jared tilted his head down and caught Jensen’s gaze, hazel eyes narrowing. He ducked forward again and put his lips to Jensen’s ear, making him shiver and stutter in his movements. “C’mon Jensen, let me see you lose it. Let it go, Jen, let me see, let me _see_–” and with that, Jensen came, his orgasm punched out of him in a long, loud groan.

He let his head tip back and hit the wall, pulling his hand free and breathing slowly, trying to calm his heart rate. Jared rested his weight a bit more onto Jensen’s body, and he could feel Jared’s own heart pounding.

They were quiet for a minute, catching their breath, regaining speech, and then finally Jared nuzzled Jensen’s neck and placed a kiss to his jaw. “Um. So…that was nice?” His voice was sheepish.

Jensen forced his eyes open and smiled tiredly. “Fuck yeah it was. But…the fuck did _that_ come from? I thought…”

He felt Jared’s own smile curve against his skin. “Yeah. I. Well, I guess I was trying to…that night of the party? I was trying to…but then you got up and walked off. So…” He shrugged.

Jensen rolled his eyes and shoved Jared back. “Dude, get off me, you weigh a million pounds and you’re sweating all over me. And man, I was stoned as fuck that night, I had _no idea_ what was going on. You didn’t say anything the next day, so I figured…”

Jared grinned and passed his hand through his hair. “I wasn’t trying to push you into something you didn’t want.”

Jensen pushed off the wall and crowded Jared’s space, looping his arms around Jared’s slim waist, because he _could_. “Well, that was clearly a mistake. We could’ve been doing this for _weeks_.” He pinched Jared’s ass, then turned back to pick up their clothes. “Now, c’mon. Let’s go shower. We’re gross. I have a few ideas of stuff we could do, and we’re gonna need a bed for most of them.”

Jared tossed his head back and laughed, turning and bounding up the stairs. Jensen grinned. Good to know that despite everything, he was still amusing the fuck out of his co-star.


End file.
